[Third Person Pov]
Clark exhaled slowly, the lingering heat from his vision still radiating around him as he stared at the giant, molten-edged hole he had blasted through the side of the ship. He turned toward Lala, his expression softening. “Lala…”
“I know, I’m sorry,” she said immediately, pouting as she lowered her head, cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “I should have left this to you, but I really just wanted—”
“What? No, let me finish,” Clark interjected, staring at her in genuine confusion. “I was going to ask for your help. I need you to head over to the weapon room. I can hear them reloading their main cannons—they’re attempting to attack the city again. Put a stop to it while I handle the boss.”
“Really?!” Lala squealed with pure delight, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “You’re asking me for help? Yay!”
She quickly composed herself, standing up straight and snapping a crisp salute, her expression shifting into one of determined seriousness. “I mean—you got it, Superman! You won’t be disappointed!”
Without another moment’s hesitation, she spread her wings wide and took off like a rocket down the corridor.
“Wait! You don’t even know where it is— Oh, for Rao’s sake…” Clark facepalmed, though a half-formed grin was already spreading across his lips. “Sol, you already managed to map out this ship, correct? Send Peke the information.”
“What about me?” Krypto asked eagerly, sitting right in front of Clark with his tongue hanging out, tail thumping against the floor as he waited expectantly.
Clark smiled warmly and knelt slightly. “Krypto, I need you to make sure none of the aliens slip out of here and threaten the people below. You’re a guard dog of the highest order. Oh, and make sure to keep Momo and her new boyfriend safe.” A mischievous grin grew on his face, already anticipating how much he was going to tease her later.
“I can do that! No one will get past me,” Krypto declared confidently, baring his sharp fangs with a low, playful growl.
Clark ruffled the super-dog’s head affectionately, then rose back into the air. With a powerful burst of speed, he tore straight through the next series of walls, carving a direct path forward.
“Stop it!!” A sharp mental shout suddenly erupted inside Clark’s mind, causing him to wince from the discomfort. “Just use the corridors like a normal person! You’re needlessly destroying the ship!”
A brief flash of annoyance crossed Clark’s face, quickly replaced by a smug smirk. “Nah,” he replied out loud, “I’m going to do my own thing.”
Using the mental techniques he had been diligently practicing, Clark channeled a powerful psychic counter right back through the connection.
---
Deep within the command center, Geryuganshoop clutched his head in sudden agony, his squid-like body recoiling. “A psychic feedback? It seems I’ve underestimated you…”
His numerous tentacles whipped around rapidly, manipulating controls across the array of glowing monitors surrounding him. “You might have bested Melzargard, but let’s see how you fare against our ship’s defense systems.”
The alien laughed maniacally, his voice dripping with malice. “You are a fool if you believe we don’t have anything prepared for invaders. There simply hasn’t been anyone worthy enough to test them on before.”
---
Clark halted mid-flight as entire sections of the walls around him slid open with smooth, mechanical precision. Hidden compartments unfolded one after another, revealing a terrifying arsenal of high-tech weaponry. Massive energy cannons, rapid-fire laser emitters, plasma blasters, railguns, and dozens of smaller automated turrets emerged from every direction—walls, ceiling, and even the floor. Within seconds, he was completely surrounded, staring down the barrels of countless weapons with no escape route in sight.
A deafening chorus of high-pitched charging whines filled the chamber. Every cannon glowed brighter and brighter as targeting lasers converged on Clark’s chest in a deadly web of red dots.
Clark simply stared at the overwhelming display with a completely straight, unimpressed face. “Sol, want to do the honors?”
“Yes please,” Sol huffed indignantly, her voice carrying a clear edge of annoyance. “Since they were so eager to interfere with our own technology, it’s only fair I return the favor.”
A faint crackle of energy rippled across Clark’s suit as Sol took immediate action. Instantly, sparks erupted from deep inside the weapon systems. Smoke billowed out as circuits overloaded and mechanisms seized up. One by one, the turrets and cannons began to malfunction violently—exploding in brilliant showers of fire, shrapnel, and electrical arcs that lit up the corridor like a fireworks display.
The once-menacing defense network collapsed into smoldering wreckage around him, leaving Clark hovering calmly amid the chaos, completely unscathed.
…
Geryuganshoop stared at the monitor in complete silence, utterly speechless. One tentacle still pressed against his head, trying to soothe the lingering psychic pain and sheer exasperation that coursed through him.
“When this is over, I’m asking for a refund,” he grumbled bitterly to himself. “Because now I’m just simply embarrassed…”
His gaze drifted back to the monitor tracking Clark’s position, and the live video feed made him freeze in place.
Clark was staring directly up at the camera with both middle fingers raised high, laughing heartily with a mischievous grin plastered across his face.
Veins bulged across every section of Geryuganshoop’s squid-like body. “I don’t know what that gesture means, but I feel deeply offended,” he growled, his voice thick with indignation.
---
“Kal-El… Please be serious,” Sol reproached him in a weary, almost maternal tone. “You have an image to maintain. Children look up to you—you’re supposed to set a proper example as a hero.”
“Yes, mom, I know, I know,” Clark teased right back, rolling his eyes dramatically before continuing his casual flight forward through the ship’s corridors. A playful chuckle escaped his lips as he pushed ahead.
---
Meanwhile, Boros remained seated on his imposing throne, leaning casually against his fist with his single eye closed in quiet repose. He didn’t bother inquiring about the constant explosions and tremors that continued to rock his massive flagship. The chaos seemed almost beneath his notice.
Geryuganshoop soon appeared on the comms, his voice gloomy and disheartened. “I’m sorry, boss… but Melzargard has been defeated. I couldn’t slow him down or stop him. He’s making a direct path toward you as we speak.”
“I’m aware,” Boros replied calmly, opening his eye and sitting up straighter on his throne. “I saw everything. I honestly wasn’t expecting Melzargard to fall that easily. I can see why he qualified to be the princess’ fiancé. I certainly hope this Superman lives up to the hype he’s been showing so far.”
“He is incredibly annoying,” Geryuganshoop grumbled and whined. “Boss, please do this favor for me—make sure you kill him dead.”
Boros let out a low chuckle, a rare hint of amusement coloring his powerful voice. “He must have really gotten under your skin for you to wish him death so passionately.”
“Ah… he’s here. I can sense him,” Boros announced, sitting up even straighter. His presence became overwhelmingly intimidating as he settled into his throne like a conqueror awaiting worthy prey.
He noticed a specific spot on the giant reinforced doors to his grand chamber beginning to glow a dull red. The heat spread rapidly, shifting from deep orange to brilliant yellow as the temperature skyrocketed. Soon the metal burned white-hot before melting away into glowing, molten slag that dripped heavily onto the floor.
Boros watched with calm curiosity as Superman casually walked through the shimmering curtain of molten metal, his stride relaxed and confident—like he was taking a light, leisurely stroll rather than storming the heart of an alien invasion fleet.
“Was melting my door really necessary?” Boros asked, leaning forward with one knee braced against the throne’s platform.
“You tell me,” Clark replied with a cocky smirk. All his muscles flexed powerfully, producing a faint but noticeable shockwave that blasted the clinging remnants of molten metal off his body in every direction. “If I looked cool while doing it, then yeah… it was absolutely necessary.”
Boros said nothing at first. His single eye narrowed as he slowly appraised Clark, scanning him with intense focus. ‘What is this power I’m sensing from him? It’s unlike anything I’ve ever encountered before.’
‘The energy coursing through him is boundless, an endless ocean of raw, untapped potential that defies all logic. This should be impossible… Is he some kind of god in disguise?’
To Boros’ unique vision, Clark appeared as a radiant golden figure wreathed in blazing golden flames. A colossal pillar of pure energy erupted from him, stretching far beyond the ceiling of the ship and piercing into the heavens.
‘He is the manifestation of the Sun given form.’